The Prodigal Son Returns
by diva.gonzo
Summary: Charlie Weasley has returned to England on Ron's Birthday, and brothers Charlie, George, and Ron are killing a couple of hours before work and duty picks back up. Nothing like brotherly love and picking on the youngest brother to make a day of the reunion. Too bad the discussion get a little out of hand... (Rated M from ch. 2 onward. Appearances by the entire group)
1. Landings

**Ch. 1 - Landings**

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_(A/N: No copyright infringement intended. No money made from this writing. Biscuits will be handed out later at the end of the exam. No other warranties apply. See store for additional details. - DG)_

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Charlie stepped off the landing platform at the Ministry, shaking his ginger head from the wind that blew through his short hair. He felt naked, missing the hair he had not a day prior. Sophia tried to convince him to keep his hair but he refused. He didn't want to annoy Mum with what growth he had. _At least it's not as long as Bill's. Hair that long would kill me!_

He picked up the rucksack from the ground behind him and saw the cavalry in front of him: The Weasley family, standing on the other side of the platform and waiting for his acknowledgement. A huge grin plastered on his face said it all – he was home!

He crossed the platform, finding his father first. Dad was getting older, he realized, as this was his first trip home in months. The hair was receding further back on his head, the glasses and his waistline were thicker, and his eyes were a touch less bright. That smile was still infectious, and so warming. "Dad!"

"Missed you, son!" He gave a dragon-sized hug, hearing the Fireball skin coat crackle under the movements. "Blimey boy, it's good to see you!"

No one bothered to hear the slight sniff from Charlie. No one would have cared if they did.

Arthur let go of his second son, quickly replaced by Bill. "Merlin, Charlie, you're still ugly as a dragon."

Chortles resonated from the family. "And you still look like a werewolf played pattycake with your face, you bugger."

Bill stepped back, letting his wife take over. "Bonjour Charlie!"

He leered, loving that he got a warm kiss on each cheek from his sister in law. "And don't believe Beel. He's still rude as the day I met him. You are quite marvelous."

Bill and Charlie chuckled at the petite waif of a wife in front of him. "Where are the girls?"

"Mum has them at Shell Cottage. We'll head there after your meeting today."

"But that's not for a couple of hours."

"We know. We have to run. Fleur needs to be back with the girls, and I have to get back in the office. There's more who want to see you too, you ugly bugger."

Charlie looked to his right, and there was the rest of the brigade. Percy and his wife Audrey were there, dressed resplendently in conservative dark robes. "We can't stay long, but we wanted to say hi before we had to be back, too."

Hugs went around, more polite than not for his younger brother and his dimutive wife. "Audrey, you're looking prettier by the day."

She leered back, making the men blush. "Don't let this bureaucrat hear that. He'll want a bullet list by the end of the day if he thinks something's not above the board."

"Audrey! That's not true!"

Chuckles from the rest of the family echoed in the station.

Audrey kissed Charlie on the cheek one last time before turning back to the Main Foyer. "Come along Perce. We can't leave the Minister waiting, can we?"

Percy blushed over his glasses and up to his hairline. "Sorry Charlie, but the Wizarding world will crumble if Audrey isn't there to keep Kingsley on the tight schedule she makes for him."

Audrey slipped her arm around her husband. "It's not like you aren't a help for him too, Percy. Now come along. We have work to do."

Bill and Fleur left with Percy and his wife, throwing his welcome as they strode back to the floodgates.

Charlie watched them walk away. "I figured they'd still be that ambitious."

"Don't worry, son, they'll be at dinner tonight. You won't mind a bit. Probably be bored silly shortly thereafter."

Charlie looked back, and there stood the rest of the battalion.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" Long dark arms enveloped him in a huge hug, trying to pick him up off the ground. "Hadn't seen you in a blue moon, you prat!" Angelina slapped him on his dragon skin jacket. "I should string you up by your toes for missing Fred's birth, you tosspot!"

"How was I supposed to know you'd go into labor six weeks early? You know how expensive it is to get International Portkeys."

She turned to her husband George behind her, smacking him on the arm too. "And that's for not buying your brother the Portkey so he could see his handsome nephew! Greedy bleeder!"

"Is that the handsome bloke we're talking about?"

"Sure is."

George stepped forward, and handed his two-month-old son over to his older brother. A tuft of dark brown fuzz stuck up from the swaddling of Fred Weasley II. An odious orange baby blanket topped it – courtesy of little brother Ron. "Did you have to bundle him like a yam?"

"You're just jealous because he's a better lookin' bloke than you are, you git."

Charlie looked down at the baby snuggled in his arms. Charlie dragged a calloused finger through the bunny like hair on his head, and little Fred's eyes opened up. "Why hey there, Fred. I'm your Uncle Charlie."

Charlie looked at the hazel eyes looking up into his blue ones. "He's a cute squirt."

George beamed while Angelina smiled.

"Nice to finally meet you. You look better than your Daddy, that's for sure."

A wail broke out of the bundle of ghastly orange blankets. Angelina rushed over to cradle her son, taking him from her brother in law. "Don't mind him. He's just hungry."

Charlie laughed, along with the rest of the family. "He's a Weasley then, even without the red hair: Always hungry and looking to Mum to feed him."

More peals of laughter peppered the stone walls of the platform. "Speaking of which, where are the youngest siblings of mine? Shouldn't they be here?"

"Ginny's at practice in Holyhead after yesterday's International Match. Harry's in Edinburgh for a conference. They'll be at dinner tonight. However, Ron and Hermione should have been here already."

"No, Ronald, I will not relent from that bit of legislation, I don't care how annoyed and inconvenienced the Auror Department will be about it. Elves have rights too."

"But Hermione, please think – "

"Don't you start on that line with me, Ronald Weasley!"

The family smiled. The youngest son had arrived.

"I'm just saying that the paperwork alone – "

"I've had enough of the department's limp wristed – "

"Well, hello to you two!"

They broke from their bickering to see Charlie and the rest of the men standing there smiling. Hermione blushed and Ron did as well. "Hello Charlie. Nice to see you again."

She stood up on her toes to plant a peck on his cheek and a hug as well. "I've got to run back. I'll see you at two for the meeting, right?"

"It's at two?"

Hermione nodded. "It was originally scheduled for one, but a department heads meeting came up and I had to push back our international meeting back an hour. I know you won't mind having a long lunch with your brothers, will you?"

"Oh not at all, Director Weasley." He watched his sister in law get a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, betraying her intentions. He leered, flashing his best grin. "I think I can find something or someone to keep me entertained for an extra hour before our meeting today. Ickle Ronniekins will be a perfect lunch host."

She smiled again, turning heel to her husband. "One more thing, dear husband?"

Hermione slid her small hand into her husbands, and they ducked into an alcove away from the family.

Charlie turned back to his Dad, who was still grinning from everything. "They still act like newlyweds, huh?"

Arthur smiled. "Embarrassingly so. Mummy still catches them from time to time during the Sunday brunch. She set a caterwauling charm on the Scullery to keep them out of it."

Chuckles bounced around.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I have to get back also. Hermione was right. There is a Director's meeting today at one. Sad to say, I was the one who called it." Arthur grinned. "I thought my sons would like some time together without the rest of us so you three could catch up."

Arthur hugged his son one more time before turning and strolling back to the lifts. Charlie watched his father walk away, noticing a slight limp in his stride.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"When did Dad get old?"

"I think when we were born."

"No, really? Dad's limping."

George stood there, quiet for a minute. "Dad tripped last week while we were having Brunch. He said it was on a board sticking up in kitchen, but when I went to check, there was no board."

"Was it his size twelve feet?"

"It's entirely possible. Then again, they work him hard at the ministry. I think he's just getting tired."

Charlie looked at his younger brother. "Maybe it's time we start paying them back for everything. Shall we discuss this as a family after they leave this evening?"

"That's a marvelous idea, but you should know that most of us are doing something already for them. Harry and Ginny quietly put money in their vault every month. Bill keeps tabs on it, and also makes sure that the house is secure. I bought Mum a new stove when the last one went out. Percy does stuff for Dad as well, like looking over his documents for work and such. Ron's cheap, but only because he and Hermione are trying to save for a house in Cardiff near Harry and Ginny's new place. Instead, Hermione takes Dad out often, going out into the Muggle world when Ron's away. She says his favorite place is going to Heathrow to watch the aeroplanes come and go. But he also enjoys trips to the hardware store, where he can play with batteries and plugs for hours."

The brothers stood on the walkway, letting the minute pass them by.

"You think it's been long enough for ickle Ronniekins and Mrs. Weasley back there?"

Charlie grinned. "I think we need to remind our brother about propriety."

"How long have they been back there?"

"Maybe four minutes. Long enough for Ron but not enough for Hermione."

"Four minutes?"

"Ron told me a couple of Christmases past that Hermione is rather talented."

The brothers smirked at one another. Charlie picked up his rucksack and slung it over his shoulder. George led the way to the alcove where they saw the youngest brother and his wife disappear.

They weren't there.

"Where the bloody hell are they?"


	2. And secret doors

**Ch. 2 - And Secret Doors**

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_(A/N: This chapter earns the rating. Your mileage may vary. No other warranties apply. - DG)_

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"Where the bloody hell are they?"

The brothers stood there, looking around the various old brick posts on the platform, not finding them anywhere. "Could they have gone back to their offices and left us here?"

Charlie kept staring around the room, wondering where they wandered off to. "Well come on, we'll start our way to the pub and get eating. Ron can catch up."

They took three steps and spied a nestled door. The brothers looked at one another, realizing that the lovebirds found a temporary hiding place. Grins reflected one another. Charlie tried to turn the knob of the door, knowing it wouldn't budge. He felt the buzz of the inherent magic coursing through his hand when he placed it on the handle.

"You do realize if we interrupt them, that there is a good chance that we could be seriously hurt. She didn't earn the title Brightest Witch of our age for nothing."

Charlie looked back at his younger brother. "You have any other bright ideas? I'd like to be in one piece the rest of the day."

"As a matter of fact, I do. Watch and learn, dear brother."

George pulled his wand and did a complicated incantation. A magical window opened on the door and showed into the next room. Ron and Hermione were inside.

"Good thing you did that, dear brother. I certainly wouldn't want to interrupt that."

The brothers watched them on the chair, thankful that the noise from the room wasn't part of the showing. "You sure we should be watching this?"

Charlie threw his head back and laughed. "Of course. We're going to use this to blackmail him. That's the whole point."

George grinned at his brother's cheek. "What about Hermione? You know I'm rather fond of her as a little sister and all."

"Merlin's bollocks George. When did you get whipped? Oh right. Angie has your bollocks in her pocket. Look, we leave her out of it. She's great for him, but I'm not missing an opportunity to take the piss outta him. I've not seen the ruddy wanker in months."

They stood there watching the lovebirds shagging. "Wonder what they're saying?"

George looked at his brother, noting the confusion on his face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"And you aren't?"

"No, 'cause I've walked in on them at the shop, and heard her one time in the loo at home. I've heard Hermione enough for a lifetime."

"Why's that little brother?"

George laughed. "It's the quiet ones, ya know? She's so prim around the family, and so respectful. When she's like that –" George pointed at them, "she's rather coarse, salty and blue. First time I heard her I could have sworn it was Ginny with Harry."

"You're kidding!"

"Sorry Charlie. She's raunchier than Ginny out on the pitch."

"Blimey, did we miss out or what?"

"We did." George laughed. "But it's not a bad thing, mind you. She's so good for him. Haven't you noticed?"

Charlie wouldn't look George in the eye. George realized what he said. Shame crossed his face. "Oh man, sorry I said that. You know I didn't mean it that way."

Charlie stared out into the platform area. "It's fine. I know I'm not around as much as the rest, but that doesn't mean I don't care."

"Look. Ron loves you more than the rest of us. He knows and understands. He'll listen to you when he won't listen to anyone else 'cept that bushy haired siren in there."

Charlie looked back, and they watched the two in the next room, their eyes never leaving the other. "They're barmy for one another, aren't they? This isn't anything like those magazines you get at the shop in Knockturn Alley."

"They are. I've seen those two at home with Mum and Dad. They are the epitome of reserve at home, well, when they aren't rowing with one another, but otherwise? They can communicate with just a glance or a touch of the hands. They are best friends first. It's like they have nothing to hide from one another."

The brothers saw movement, and plastered matching expressions of shock on their face. "Did he just – "

"Did you see?"

"Wow. I've never –"

"I think she liked that!"

"What bird wouldn't?"

"I dunno. The one time I tried that with Alicia – "

"You tried that with Alicia?"

"Well, yea, I got the idea from one of your bird magazines."

"Are you daft like Ronald there?"

"Well, she slapped the piss outta me for it. It seemed – "

They stood there, gobsmacked, watching Ron drive Hermione over the edge of bliss. She threw her head back and silently screamed in the confines of the small room. Within seconds, Ron was bellowing too. "Aren't you glad you didn't hear that? I bet the people up on the street would have heard them, from the looks of it."

"Blimey!"

They stood there, watching the couple come down from their bliss, slowly recovering from their ordeal.

"How long were they in there?"

"I dunno, maybe six or seven minutes."

Charlie leered. "Poor Ronniekins has no stamina."

"Stamina? Ha! I bet we can get him to pipe up about this morning before he came into work."

"You think?"

George nodded. "I know so. Ron's let it slip once that Hermione loves waking him up the right way. Says she's creative and an animal in the sack too. He also said that she's barmy for him too, worse than he is."

They watched as Mrs. Weasley composed herself, taking an extra minute to fasten her front clasp brassiere then slowly button her blouse. Hermione sighed, then leaned back over to kiss Ron chastely, never taking her eyes off of him the whole time. A quick wand movement and they were clean. She then ran her hands over her hair, realizing there wasn't much she would be able to do in the process. The brothers stood there watching her watch her husband, who was still slouched in the chair. She stood up from straddling him, and the brothers were once again amazed.

"Holy Shite! Did you know he's hung like a hippogriff!"

"Well, we all take after Dad that way."

"Dad?"

"Don't you remember? He's gifted like Ron."

"I just didn't pay attention to Dad that way."

"Silly Georgie. You know you're gifted, right?"

"Yeah, but not like that monstrosity!"

Charlie looked back at his brother, watching in amazement. "Well, I have to admit that ickle Ronniekins isn't so ickle anymore."

"But how the bloody hell –"

"Ever think that they're meant for one another, like soul bonded? It's the only explanation that makes any lick of sense."

"Blimey, that's something to consider."

They watched as Hermione finished comporting herself, adjusting her blouse and skirt then sliding back into her professional robes. Within five minutes, she transformed from beast to bureaucrat. Ron never took his eyes off his wife until she was finished composing herself.

Ron stood up from the chair, tucking himself back into his pants and trousers, and finished tidying his appearance. One minute, he's wanton and randy, and the next, back to an Auror. The change was almost mythic.

"Come on, let's get to the foyer. We don't want them to suspect."

The brothers hustled out of the back hallway, working their way quickly to the atrium and blending into the crowds. Hopefully their brother wouldn't suspect their spying on his activities with his wife, at least until Lunch.

Sure enough, not a minute later, they saw the two of them step out from the platform room, holding hands and ignoring the rest of the crowds flowing past them. To anyone else, they looked like the epitome of decorum: holding hands, intense looks, and no improper displays of affection.

Ron's chaste kiss on her palm betrayed it all. Hermione's kiss on his cheek before she purposely strode to the lifts completed the act. He watched her walk away, grinning like a troll with her curvaceous hips sashaying away from him. His eyes didn't leave her until she was safely inside the lift. Only then did he turn around scanning the atrium for his siblings. Ron spotted them standing by the door to the canteen, looking deep in discussion.

"Ah, there's little brother now. Did you have a good conversation with your wife?"

Ron's ears turned slightly red, but his face was stoic. "We were talking about a case that is coming up before the Wizengamot. She has to testify next week and she wanted to discuss a particular point of the law."

Charlie shrugged. "Well now that you're done, I'm famished. Let's grab some pub grub and tuck in. I don't have to be back for another two hours!"

Ron strode ahead of them, missing the look the brothers shared behind his back. Charlie winked at George, who smiled back. "Your turn, brother," George whispered to his older brother.


	3. Fish and Chips

**Ch. 3 - Fish and Chips**

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"Hannah, two butterbeers and a double Ogden's."

"Sure thing, George!"

The brothers settled into their table in the corner, with Ron facing out into the pub, watching everyone come and go.

"How long are you staying on your Holiday?"

"I'll be home for three weeks before going back. I'll spend a week with Mum and Dad, and a week with Bill and Fleur and the kids. The last week, I'll wander around and visit the rest before taking my Portkeys back to Romania."

"You might want to change that itinerary for Gin. She'll be out on tour the second and third week. You might want to go visit with her the first week so you can see her more than just tonight."

Hannah returned, dropping off the beverages. "What can I get you three?"

"Fish and chips for me," Charlie said. "I've missed proper British fare."

"Same for me. I'm not a dragon in human form like the man in the back," cheeked George from the next seat.

"And you, Ron?"

"Same order, a side of roasted chicken legs, and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert."

Everyone grinned, including Hannah. "Does your Mum know you prefer my chocolate cake?"

"She keeps begging me to wheedle the secret from you, Hannah. Too bad you can't teach Hermione how to bake."

"That wife of yours is hopeless I'm afraid. I've tried and she just doesn't have it. Brightest witch of our age and she can't bake a proper cake."

The siblings laughed along with Hannah who strode away to place their order.

"Now, where were we?"

"Ginny has a match tomorrow night in Luxemburg then a Harpies match this weekend at Holyhead. It doesn't matter where we watch, 'cept that you need to see her fly on her new broom."

"I'll do that. I don't want to take away any time she spends with Mum and Dad."

George put his bottle down. "And don't forget that dark haired specky git she's madly in love with and married to."

"Oh Merlin, don't remind me that my little sister is married. I rather remember her being six and learning how to fly for the first time."

The siblings chuckled, remembering how she whinged and complained that her brothers wouldn't let her play with them riding a Cleansweep. That was the last time she had a tantrum and meltdown. Dad relented shortly thereafter.

"You remember the first time we let her ride on the pitch with us? We could never catch her. She was what, ten? I think that was the week before we met Harry at Diagon Alley right before school started. Man, was she fast on that rustbucket we put her on. I don't even think it was a Cleansweep Five. That might have been Dad's broom from when he was in school."

"Charlie, you should see her now on that Firebolt Pro she rides. Harry had it made just for her."

"You're kidding! He got her an international competition broom?"

"Yeah, he had to. She got it right before the start of this season. Has two of them, she does. Set them both back quite a few galleons, way she talks. But if when you see her fly, you'd understand it's worth every knut."

Charlie took a swig. "Think it flies faster than a dragon? That Firebolt Harry had wasn't quite fast enough."

"I know it does. We saw her in a match against Chudley and she made their beaters look like they were standing still. I was almost sick watching some of the maneuvers she performs on that broom. Brilliant doesn't even describe her. Like a dragon in flight but with less concern. Fearless more like it."

Ron took a swig of his butterbeer. "You're coming with us this weekend to see her ride against Exmoor. She's already got you a ticket for the match in the family box with us."

"Sorted." Charlie took a sip of his whiskey while waiting on the waitress to bring their meals. "When's the last time you were up, dear brother?"

Ron took a swig from his butterbeer. "I took a ride last week with Harry and Ginny actually. The pitch at Holyhead was empty, and she let us come in for an hour, just to toss the quaffle around. That was fun riding around in there. I couldn't keep up with her on Harry's Firebolt, so she loaned me her spare. Rode like a dream really. I'm tempted to ask Hermione if I can get one."

Charlie downed the last of his double, feeling the burn from the whiskey. "Bet that isn't the only ride you're getting lately little brother."

Ron sipped his butterbeer while trying to keep the chagrin off his face and away from his ears. They felt hot. He knew he failed to hide from his siblings.

"Oh come now, younger brother. We know that wife of yours keeps you considerably happy. We both can see it on your face. So, Ronnyboy, what's Hermione like in the sack? I bet she's a lion."

"It's always the quiet ones, you know." Ron got lost in his thoughts, thinking back to this morning before work. A ghost of a smile on his face wasn't lost on his brothers.

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Delicate hands tickled the soft hairs on the tops of his thighs. He wasn't asleep, and hadn't been for the last half hour. His mind couldn't shut down from the raid last night, even after exhaustion pulled him into slumber. His mind repeated the mess he saw when he walked into the house in Cardiff.

_Blood everywhere wasn't a problem. A dead wizard wasn't an issue either. What tore his heart was seeing the frightened Muggle girl hiding in the closet of the flat. She was in shock, covered in blood, and wouldn't let anyone get close to her. She was petrified and scared out of her wits. Her face looked exactly like Hermione when he rescued her the night at Malfoy Manor, and it tore him up._

_Everyone else in MLS who was on scene tried to help – and she screamed bloody murder if they got too close to the door of the closet. Harry the Hero couldn't get close to her either. Somehow, Ron knew what to do. He did it once before, and it had worked. Why not?_

_He stepped up to the door of the closet where the girl was hiding, seeing his startling blue eyes. She broke eye contact almost immediately, looking down at her blood stained hands. He knelt down right in front of her, outside the threshold to the closet, letting her look at him. His jacket, buttoned and full of chevrons and brass buttons, gave the appearance of authority and security. _

_He stayed there, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge him. When she looked up from her blood-covered hands, he held his hands out, palms up, leaving them there for her to reach out to him. If he tried to grab her, he'd get hurt, like the first time. So, he waited, like the second time, when he let her come to him. _

_Uncomfortable minutes passed while she studied his face and the remaining features. The last thing she focused on was his hands. His large hands, calloused from hours of training and writing, flying and fucking, showed strength that fourteen-year-old Ron would envy. Strength earned by honor, trust, integrity, dedication, and love. The faded scars on the backs of his hands, left years prior by the brains in the Ministry, reminded him of those few moments of monumental stupidity, along with the consequences of those actions. _

_Small hands reached across the void to him, laying gently in his. She lunged into his arms, smearing blood on his coat, inflicting another scar on his weary soul. Her weeping was the final straw for the night._

"_I'm taking her to St. Mungo's. We need to find out what the bloody hell happened here and to her. I want answers and I want them immediately!"_

_Ron spun on the spot, landing in the emergency landing area at the hospital. Within minutes, she was in a room being looked after. He spoke to the attending Healer, and left immediately for the scene once again._

* * *

Small hands took him, teasing him delicately. "I know you're awake. You barely slept during the night."

He smiled in the darkness, feeing his wife's ministrations. She was so good at what she was doing, draining the stress from his life in such a wonderful way. "Couldn't sleep. The call-out shook me."

"Can you tell me what happened?" she said quietly. He felt her lips on his hips while leaving light kisses all around the one place that her hands were occupied with.

"Not yet. Paperwork won't be completed until later today. Once it's in and filed, I'll tell you over dinner. There's so much that I can't forget from earlier."

"Can I ease your mind for a little while?"

Hermione didn't even wait for his non-verbal answer. She never had to ask, and he never had to say. She understood him now, years after they first got together so spectacularly, or so quickly after that. His stressful job took a toll on him, and her love helped him scar over the worst, mend the painful, and soothe the weary. He'd never complain about the love she showed him, behind their closed doors. He was exhausted, but the love and attention she gave him in spades made his life rich, and helped him tolerate the pain he had to accept for the career he chose.

"Woman, get up here!"

She giggled, sliding her supple body up his, ready for more. She slid onto him with a hiss, impaling herself on the erection she was just giving love and attention to. "So good, so fucking good."

He looked up at his wife, seeing her tits bouncing away in the moonlight of their bedroom. Her face was shadowed, hidden under the volume of hair that was disheveled from sleeping and more.

"That's it love. Ride me. Take it all; show me what you can do."

"Love you so fucking much" she panted from exertion. He watched her bounce on him, using his chest and thighs as leverage. Nail scrapes up and down his chest thrilled him, making him stand up even further into her.

"Need you," she moaned.

He pressed his feet into their bed, using the mattress as leverage for her. She slid her heels to his knees, keeping her knees on his muscular flanks.

"Come on Hermione. Scream for me love!"

Candlelight would be nice, since he loved seeing her warm chocolate eyes half-lidded in lust. It took months for him to learn her and appreciate her during sex. Sure, it's always great to him. It wasn't always great for her, at least at first.

Now, finding the points to tickle or to suck and tease caused her joy and pleasure. The small noise she makes when he sucks her neck is a favorite. The others are beautiful, too.

He moved one of his hands from her hip, roughly kneading her nipple between his thumb and fingers. He shifted his right hand on her hip, letting his thumb work into her trimmed coarse curls. He felt her clit above his ever-moving hips. He pressed on it, gently at first, hearing her moan. "Come for me Hermione. Wake the neighbors!"

He circled her nub, feeling her quiver above him. "OhG_drighttheredontstop!"

Ron was fluent when she was like this – babbling while in the early stages of a mind-blowing orgasm.

He continued to circle her nub, pressing a touch harder on each circle. His other fingers squeezed her hip harder, possibly leaving a bruise. It wouldn't be the first or last time he was rough with her. They learned early on that they enjoyed it with scrapes and bruises, whether from each other or from the various places they shagged. It didn't matter where – wood or brick or tile or bark – only that they did.

Inspiration hit him like a bludger. He sat up unexpectedly and put the other nipple in his mouth. A touch of teeth on the tip was all it took to make her squeal in pleasure. "FuckRon!" while she quivered around him. Her next noise was a scream, just like he wanted.

Before she could finish bellowing in glee, he flipped them on the bed, throwing her into the plush mattress. A quick move on his part, and he was pounding into her with everything he had. "So fucking good!"

She groaned, still riding the waves he was giving her. She was still coherent enough to rake her well-manicured nails down his back, digging them into the protrusions of his hips before getting small handfuls of his ginger haired bum.

"Almost love."

Her tits bounced on her chest, and he stretched her legs out over his elbows, thrusting madly into her. Another bite on her other nipple drove her off the edge again, and she constricted him painfully.

He lost it. "FuckYesHermioneSoGood!"

Ron opened his eyes, seeing his wife's shadowed face under him. She was panting as hard as he was, reason and rationale forgotten for a moment. "Merlin's pants, I love you so much!" before he claimed her lips once again, salt and love mixing on her swollen lips. "You make everything better."


	4. You can tell Mum

**Ch. 4 - You can tell Mum...**

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Charlie snapped his fingers in front of his brother's face. "Ickle Ronniekins, come back to us. What was that pervy mind of yours thinking about?"

"Rough case yesterday evening," Ron said while taking a long pull from his butterbeer, ignoring the foam on the top. "I'm still having trouble letting go from it."

They grinned at one another, eager to take the piss outta him. They wanted details, even with more to the story. "So was that what your wife was doing, consoling you still?"

Ron kept his eyes on the pub around them. "Don't even ask, 'cause I can't even talk about it with Hermione yet. I won't be able to until tomorrow at the earliest."

"That bad little brother?"

Ron nodded and took another drink.

"Sure looked like she was giving you more affection than attention, little brother, or should we call you, Troll Brother."

"Merlin's pants, what the bloody hell?"

"Oh nothing, just that you're certainly not ickle Ronniekins anymore, that's for certain. You'd make some dragons jealous, that's all."

Ron looked up at Charlie, seeing the grin on their faces. His ears turned red, followed by his cheeks glowing in the same red stain. Mortification crossed his face before he put his face in his hands.

"We're just happy that you take after Dad, that's all."

"And from the looks of things, you certainly do keep your wife rather happy."

"If I had a witch riding my king sized broom I'd be thrilled too."

"You saw us earlier?" Ron ran his hands through his short ginger locks.

Charlie threw back the rest of his whiskey, grinning like a maniac. "Tell us, Ron, how did you get that brilliant bird to let you bite her like that. Poor Georgie said one time he tried that with Alicia and she slapped the fire outta him."

Ron finished off his butterbeer, and saw Hannah walking up with their tray of lunch. "In a minute," he said quietly.

"Here guys, lunch for all. Sure you want all of this, Ron? It's quite a bit to tuck into."

Ron grinned up at Hannah from his seat in the back. "This is a rather light lunch for me Hannah. Poor Hermione never can pack enough for me on training days. She says I eat through the monthly budget on food in a week."

All of the friends laughed at his honest assessment of his prodigious appetite.

"Well if you're still hungry after all of this let me know and we'll cook up more for you."

"Thanks Hannah. You're a doll!"

Hannah smiled at the Weasley men before returning to the bar.

Ron tore into the first chicken leg, savoring the flavor. "How much do you remember of that night in the kitchen after the War? The one night where Hermione told you about what happened to her at Malfoy Manor?"

George looked confused but Charlie scowled. "I remember it. I was mad enough to go hunting for a Malfoy to make them pay."

"I don't remember those first few months after the war ended," asked George quietly while eating one of his chips. "I can't imagine why. Oh wait! I was hiding in the bottom of a whiskey bottle. I seem to recall finally coming out of the fog one morning in August and Hermione was there. When I woke, she handed me a potion, and went back to cleaning my room. She never said a word. But it was the first one I remember distinctly in months. That was Ginny's birthday, right? So what happened?"

Ron quickly recounted the story to George. By the time he finished, Ron's plate of fish and most of his chips were gone, and all three were scowling still. "So that's why she has the scar on her neck and the burn on her chest. That's also the reason why Hermione won't wear any revealing clothes out in public, or go swimming at the house. She won't even let anyone but me and her healers see the one on her arm. It's bad enough that Ginny knows about her scars, but to trust someone else to see them? Even now it's still too much for her."

"But that doesn't explain what you did to her earlier today Ron? I mean, biting her? What gives?"

"Hermione's gonna kill me for telling you two this," muttered Ron into his third chicken leg.

"We won't. On our names. If we do, you can tell Mum."

Ron looked to both of them, seeing the honesty showing for once. "If you mention this to her or anyone else, I'll let her hex you instead of me. She's brilliant and there isn't a spell she doesn't know and can't use."

They both nodded in affirmation.

"Greyback started it, but when Bellatrix was torturing her, it did something to her brain. She said it changed something with her nerves and pleasure centers in her head. She didn't realize something was wrong until right before we came back from Australia. She won't admit it to anyone, but…" Ron blushed, hiding his chagrin in his meal in front of him. "… for her to get off, I have to be a little rough with her. So, if you saw us today, then you only saw a small second of it."

"Merlin's pants Ron! You hurt her?" growled Charlie. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

Ron looked up. "It's mutual, ok? Look, we don't roleplay much, if that's what you're asking." Ron looked away, trying to hide the myriad of emotions. He rubbed the back of his neck, running his long fingers through the short hair on his head. "I love her more than my own life, and I won't hurt her for any reason. She'd take my bollocks and I like them exactly where they are. I might be whipped, but she loves me more than anything else. Sometimes I wonder how I'm with her."

Ron threw the chicken bone on his plate, staring at his brother. "She's my best friend, and in some ways, better than Harry." He looked up and saw his brother's reaction. "Blimey guys, I love a leg over my wife like any bloke, but she's more than that, and whatever she wants and needs from me, she gets it. If that means shagging in the scullery during Sunday lunch, so be it. If it means I throw her up against the wall and fuck her silly, I'll do that too."

"If you ever hurt her, all bets are off Ron. I'll kick your arse and will get the rest of us."

"If I ever hurt her, she'd hurt me back. So if you want to take the piss outta me, do it, but leave her out of it. She stands up to me like no one else does or will. She doesn't play that way. You know that."

"No, I don't. I've only been around her a little bit over the years, and the last time I really saw her was after the war had just ended. You forget, I've only been home a couple of times, and those trips were short-lived."

Ron looked up seeing the understanding on their faces. "Do you remember those Sunday afternoons at Mum and Dad's house, and she was sitting in a chair on the lawn while we were playing Quidditch? To everyone else, she's just being quiet with her nose in a book. I see her hiding from everyone when the world around her gets too much. That first summer was too much for her. Between the insomnia and nightmares, she barely slept. Some days now, she gets off in her own world, and it takes some coaxing on my part to get her to open up."

Ron fiddled with a cold chip on his plate, thinking to the previous Sunday when Hermione was quiet in the library, and stayed in there for hours. The last time he glanced in there, she was bundled up inside an afghan on the decrepit recliner, just staring at the floor. When he returned a few minutes later after taking a shower, she was still huddled under the hand-woven blanket but instead looking out the window of their flat. He coaxed her into his lap and an hour later, she admitted that she heard Molly and Audrey talking about her.

"To everyone else, she is Hermione, the brightest witch of our age, and working to change the world with her bare hands. To those who she lets in and who know her best, the armor is cracked and worn. There are some days she holds that wand in her hand – the one that used to belong to Bellatrix – and it shakes so hard, like she's holding a viper in her hand. She still wakes up from time to time with the nightmares."

"Hermione?"

Ron nodded. "She only lets certain people see her weakness. Harry knows, since he's practically her brother. I know since she's my wife. Ginny knows the most, since she helped her through their last year at school. Luna knows, since she was there, too. Ginny still won't tell me everything. She says the three of them made a promise not to share what happened. But for almost everyone else, she has the façade up almost all the time."

Ron took the last of his butterbeer, glancing at it before looking back at Charlie. "But even before the war, Hermione was resolute in how she dealt with people who betrayed others. Ask George here what happened to Marietta Edgecomb."

"That was Hermione?"

Ron tore into the last chicken leg. "All Hermione. She only trusts certain people, and outside of her little circle of friends and family, you can forget it." Ron turned back to Charlie. "Hermione charmed the paper contract that started Dumbledore's Army against snitching. Someone ratted us out – another student by the name of Marietta Edgecomb – and she was curse-branded across her face for it. She couldn't even conceal it properly, so she had to go to school with the curse scar on her face. It wasn't pretty."

Charlie looked to George, who nodded in agreement. "Hermione is so fucking brilliant, and she doesn't play when it comes to betrayal. I've seen her in action, fighting solo and as a team, and she's downright frightening. Harry'd be hard pressed in a duel with her, just because she is brilliant. Ron'd have a better chance against her, but only because he's part troll."

Ron gave George a proper British salute.

"So she pulls your hair?"

Ron nodded.

"And she lets you bite her."

Ron nodded further.

"And you two still love one another?"

"Moreso now than when we first got together."

"And what day was that, little brother?"

Ron sat there, playing with the chicken bones on his plate. "Well, that's rather complicated, too."

"Blimey Ron, do you know anything?"

"'Course I do, you tit. But you're asking the wrong questions."

"How so?"

"Well, things changed the day she woke at Bill's after what happened at Malfoy Manor. We didn't really articulate anything, but for all intents and purposes, she was my girlfriend at that point. But we didn't have a real proper kiss until the day of the Battle. Even then, she kissed me. But we didn't have a real date until after she finished school."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. We didn't have a real 'Go out to dinner and dancing and romance' date. Sure, we walked in Hogsmeade when she had a weekend and I could have a day off from this fiend."

George laughed away. "He had to work his arse off to get those few hours on a Saturday to go spend it with her. He was a right foul git before and after he saw her. He was whipped months before he took her out on a real date."

"Well, when did you first shag her?"

Ron blushed yet again. "Day of Fred's funeral."

Charlie threw his head back and laughed all the way up to the rafters. "Oh that's rich as Hell. My little brother shagged his girlfriend on the day of his brother's funeral. He'd have been so proud of you."

"Hermione did that because it was the only way she could think of to get me to hold back from tearing the house down with my bare hands. The raw magic was shaking the house to the foundations. So to save the house and me, she stepped in."

Charlie slapped a burned hand on his brother's shoulder. "That wife of yours has some serious bollocks. I hope you realize that. Beautiful and ballsy. I hope to meet one like her one day."

Charlie threw his hand up, and in seconds, Hannah was back at the table. "Hannah, dear, bring a round of whiskey for the men here. We have to toast Ron the living Troll in the best way possible. It's his birthday!"

"Sure thing. I'll be right back."

"But I'm on duty Charlie."

"It's your Birthday, and one drink won't kill you today. We're going to toast Fred. Just tell your supervisor when we get back for the meeting."

Hannah laid the glasses down on the table. She poured a measure for each of them, watching them laugh. She left with a grin on her face, hearing the Weasley men carouse with the best of her patrons.

"To Fred, who broke the mold."

"To Fred, my better half."

"To Fred, who taught me to not take life seriously."

"Happy Birthday Ron, you sodding git!"

"Happy Birthday, you randy bugger!"

"Hear Hear!" as the siblings tossed back their whiskey.

Ron grinned before he tossed back his own measure of whiskey.

* * *

_A/N: The stories references in this chapter are Trust Me, and Four Days Later, if you're interested. - DG_


	5. Pranking the Prankster

**Ch. 5 - Pranking the Prankster**

* * *

The family gathered around the table at Shell Cottage, talking about anything and everything. At the end sat Ron and Hermione, hands together under the table while she discussed a point of law with Audrey and Percy. Ron watched the rest of the table, talking over one another with Charlie and his continued love of dragons.

Fleur cleared away the plates from Ron's birthday meal – roasted ham, mashed potatoes, ginger carrots, and loaves of fresh baked bread. Fleur then floated out the cake, another of Ron's favorites, this time, Death by Chocolate. Molly made this one, since Hermione couldn't quite get it right for his tastes. She gave up trying to make his favorites, and instead learned to make other things he would eat, such as the chocolate no bake biscuits he devoured often. She kept a stash of them handy, and he ate through them in days.

Hermione squeezed Ron's leg, running her hand further up and down the trousers he was wearing from earlier. His ears burned from her hidden affections, but he tried to stay stoic. Instead, he leaned behind his wife's head, trying to whisper in her ear when there was a break in the conversation.

"Can we please leave? I'm ready to have you for myself."

"Not yet, dear. We still have your birthday cake to enjoy, and you still have presents to receive."

"There's only one thing I want to open, and it's that red number you're wearing tonight."

"You'll get to open it tonight along with getting me out of my matching knickers. So hush. But I have a special surprise for you, since you so graciously told your brothers about my issues. Don't think that I'm going to let that slip either, Ron Weasley. I still can't believe you told them about you needing to be rough with me. That was supposed to stay between us."

His cheeks flushed when she made him tell everything the siblings talked about. Ron groaned, recounting the painful discussion they had earlier at the Ministry. His ears still rang from her consternation.

"You didn't think I'd let that go, your brothers' taking the mickey out of you. It's one thing for them to know everything I keep hidden. I don't relish the thought that your brothers watched us shag today. It's another for them to be perverted. That was supposed to be a private moment for you. But what upsets me is for them to take the mickey out of you for how gifted you are."

Hermione grasped the ever-growing bulge in his trousers, finding him already waiting for her. "This is mine, and only mine to see and appreciate."

She returned to the conversation with Audrey and Percy while continuing to pleasure him. She could tell her ministrations were working on him. The breath on her neck was enough notice.

Ron reached his hand over to Hermione's thigh, finding his favorite place on it, and pressed a finger on the ever-present contusion. Her cheeks flushed, the only change that betrayed his actions. "You keep torturing me, and I'll let my hands wander further. Do you want a repeat of what happened on your birthday?"

Her breath hitched. "Tempting, but that can wait until later." She relented in her torture, but let him nuzzle her behind her ear. "Just watch love, and appreciate how brilliant I am."

Bill came out with the Firewhiskey, pouring a measure for the men at the table, along with Angelina and Ginny. "A Toast to the birthday Boy, Ron!"

Cheers and well wishes went up for those partaking in the flaming beverage. Ron stole a glance at his wife, who was smirking into her glass of water.

The men tossed back their beverages, smacking their lips in appreciation.

Angelina was the first to notice. Her eyes went as wide as a house elf's. "Ummm, Charlie, what's going on?"

"What are you on about Angie?"

"Your nose seems to have changed."

"Quit joking, Angie."

"No, really, take a look."

Angelina pulled her purse, and removed a compact from it. She opened it to show the mirror inside, handing it over to Charlie.

"Merlin's Pants! When did I get a nose like a banana?"

Angelina looked at her husband and froze. His nose looked exactly the same too. "George, did you screw up a prank or something?"

George looked down and saw his nose had turned into a protruding snout as well. "Wasn't me who played a prank."

Laughter erupted from the table at the young men's predicament. Arthur laughed hardest of all, seeing his prankster son have the tables turned on him. "Sons, you look outstanding. Simply outstanding. Who did you annoy enough to prank you?"

Harry was laughing to hurt himself. "… keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."

They first turned to Harry, who was beet red from laughing so hard. He was in hysterics, and Ginny was right along with him. "Wasn't me. I was laughing at something my Dad once said to Snape. Brilliant!"

They then turned to Ginny, who was nearly falling out of her chair in laughter. "Wasn't me guys. I'm more direct. You prats need to look elsewhere."

George was turning a rather fabulous shade of red. "Here, gimme that mirror." Charlie handed over the compact, seeing his younger brother's nose turn obnoxiously long. George looked in the mirror, and started laughing.

Both sets of eyes turned to Ron, who was sitting there laughing to hurt himself. "Wasn't me guys."

They turned their attention to everyone at the table, asking in turn who would do such a prank. Finally, recognition dawned on the brothers when no one else had a nose the size of a banana. The brothers turned their heads to the end of the table, and the rest of the table joined in. Hermione had an enigmatic smile on her face, one that didn't touch her glowing chocolate eyes.

Hermione took another sip of water before putting her glass down.

"Well, I was just mentioning to Audrey about relationships. She said open and honest communication works best. I disagree. I've never been convinced that everything in a relationship needs to be talked about. Some things can't be fixed by a conversation. Sometimes, action is called for, and sometimes, actions have consequences." She smiled again before picking up her glass of water and taking another drink. "Isn't that right guys?"

George was the first to break out in guffaws, followed closely by Charlie in hysterics. The rest of the table was befuddled, save Ron who was laughing harder than his brothers.

"Hermione Jean Weasley, what did you do?" Molly's face was as red as the shirt she was wearing.

Hermione turned to her mother in law, smiling, but not sweetly. "Your sons interrupted an important and private conversation I was having with my husband today. I was gently reminding them that it's rude to interrupt."

"Well, you can just fix it right now."

Hermione smiled back at her mother in law. "Well, I would, but since George and Charlie had Firewhiskey instead of pumpkin juice in those glasses, the effects will last longer. The charm I used is intensified by the alcoholic content of the beverage in question. If they had pumpkin juice, it would have lasted maybe a minute. But Firewhiskey, with an alcoholic content around fifty percent will last between two and three hours, depending on how much Bill poured for them. Since it looked like he gave them a double each, they should be fine in the morning."

Arthur was the first to start laughing again, followed by the rest of the Weasley men. Ginny followed suit, as well as Harry and Angelina. Audrey winked at the antics, and poor Percy was wiping his glasses, which was as good as a belly aching laugh from him.

"Boys, that'll teach you to mess with the Brightest Witch of our Age."

"But Arthur!"

"Molly, they'll be fine, and that'll teach them to interrupt Hermione and Ron ever again."

* * *

**Hermione! Hermione Granger, where are you?**

Ron sat up in bed, shifting his wife's torso away from his. She was snuggled under the covers, fast asleep. _I know I heard someone calling through the Floo!_

Ron slunk out of bed, throwing on his discarder housecoat from the chair in the corner. He had his wand in his hand, and the concealed one on his arm that he never took off. _Never can be too careful._

He quickly padded out of their bedroom, closing it behind him. He lumbered into the living room, finding a head poking through the green flames in the fireplace. Sure enough, George's head was in the fire, bellowing to beat a drum.

"Ron! Get Hermione. The spell backfired."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"When she did the curse on me and Charlie today, it backfired."

"Come again?"

George ran his fingers through his hair, trying to keep from admitting what was bothering him. Suddenly, his head was gone, replaced by Angelina. "What my git of a husband is trying to hide is that something else shrank on his body when she did the hex on him. I'm not that thrilled about it either at the moment."

Ron knelt there for a second, trying to understand what they were saying. It finally dawned on him, and he reared back, laughing to wake the neighborhood. "Oh Merlin, that's hilarious! She got you so good!"

"When your wife is available next, I want to talk with her about adding it to the product line."

"That will be this weekend at the Match, George."

Ron glanced over his shoulder at his wife, standing behind him in her dressing gown. She was smiling even with the dark circles under her eyes. "Quid Pro quo, George?"

"Sure, Hermione."

Hermione opened the Floo, and George stepped through. He was dressed in his trousers and a white tank shirt. She pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes, and silently waved it at him. "Look now George."

Hermione turned her back to him, and he peeked inside his trousers and pants. "Touché, Hermione."

She turned back around once again, smiling warmly. "Never again?"

"Never!"

She grinned. "Now get out. I was asleep."

George grinned, flashing his best leer. "Sure, and my name is Charles Galahad Weasley."

He ran back for the Floo, calling out the name of the flat above the shop. Within seconds, he was gone, and the flames died down. "Lock it back, dear, and come join me in bed."

Ron watched as his wife shed her robes, leaving them in the floor of the hallway. Her curvaceous arse sauntered in delightful temptation for him. "Coming dear!" he bellowed after locking the fireplace behind him.

He raced into their bedroom, shutting the door behind him. She was already under the bedclothes smiling at him. "I certainly hope so."

**_Fin_**

* * *

_A/N:_ My thanks to my beta(s) **Becca** for the brilliant prompt; **Nel** for the encouragement, and **Stef** for the fast work on this story. Without them this story would have never coalesced. They help me keep my commas under control, and kick me in the bum when I need it. Thanks ladies' for all of your efforts!


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